


you'll see

by wordcatchers



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Lightning - Freeform, and then to post b4, first part is during the six months dating, from romantic to platonic, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcatchers/pseuds/wordcatchers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>neither of them ever forgot, and both of them always followed through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you'll see

**Author's Note:**

> for makorra week on tumblr.
> 
> korra should still def learn lightning bending / lightning generation from mako. i wanted it, so i tried to write it. :^)

“Hey – hey, Makoo-oh,” Korra winced, picking herself up from the fall onto his flat’s carpeted floor. It was thin, and felt just about like hitting straight wood instead. But it was better, though, much better compared to Air Temple Island’s rough flooring. She rubbed at her eyes and got back up onto her feet, squinting once her line of sight rested on the bright sun shining through her boyfriend’s blinds.

Mako was pulling on his spats; cocking an eyebrow at her from his position on the floor, tugging just a bit more to get them on  _just right_ , he asked if she was okay. Korra laughed and waved a hand; it was nothing.

“Yeah, cool guy, just felt like rolling out of bed today.” She slanted the blinds, dimming the light coming into his bedroom, and changed into her clothes from the night before. As she tied the pelt around her waistline, Mako walked by, ghosting fingers over her bicep. She pulled the knot quickly and rested her fingers on his before he drew them away.

“I almost forgot. You – I wanted to ask, did I ask last night?” Korra pursed her lips, trying to remember. Her brain still felt a bit fuzzy, unable to remember everything right now, besides the word  _good_. It was good. Fantastic, even. Every kiss to her jawline, the way Mako had responded to her touch, the nips at his bare skin, half-lidded eyes of desire – and yet now, they were here, about to go cook some kind of breakfast together.

She cleared her throat, “You know how to generate lightning. I’ve seen.”

“Err, yeah?” Mako said. “Are you…”

“Shush, fireboy.” Korra leaned up on her feet and pressed a finger against his lips for a moment, getting to see him faintly blush in return. “I’ve  _seen_ , and I want to  _learn_. I am the Avatar after all, y’know? Seems I should learn the subsets as well, and who better to learn lightning bending from?” 

A fierce fire danced within her eyes, and he didn’t want to deny the chance to her, but… He bit his lip and diverted his gaze from her, then looked back again, his jaw set. He wasn’t ready. He –

“Korra…” Mako started, “I’d love to teach you, but –”

“But what?”

 _Spirits_. The way she looked at him, he nearly wanted to up and take her to the most private, high elevation spot, and teach her how to generate lightning. Right now, skip breakfast, catch a ride, maybe even Asami could drive them somewhere desolate, so they could be free to practice without worry. Lightning was destructive, moreso than fire; it was chaos, guided by an inner peace, a complete absence of emotion, a stillness and an energy that he doubted he could describe in known words. 

But. He swallowed, shook his head slightly, and said, “I can’t. Not right now. There’s just… Look, I’m not saying we’ll never – I’ll never – but you’re still mastering airbending, aren’t you? After that, I can start teaching you. I will. I promise, Korra. I  _promise_.”

Korra pouted and opened her mouth to say something, but then pursed her lips together again, somewhere in thought, somewhere Mako wasn’t sure what she was going to say when she came back to him.

A moment or two later, she sighed, her shoulders slumping just a little, but she nodded in an understanding.

“But!” And there her forefinger was, right at the tip of his nose, a resolute determination in her eyes, “You better keep that promise Mako. I’ll master airbending, and then we’ll start.” She grinned then and ran that hand over the side of his head, through his still mussed up hair, and kissed him on the lips, lingering only to nip slightly at his lower lip. “Now, c’mon, city boy, let’s have breakfast. I’m starving!”

The small smile on his face curved wider, a hint of teeth showing, and he chuckled before following her into the kitchen. He was a better cook than she was, but she wanted to learn, and this he was more than ready to teach her. She even used her waterbending to their advantage, and they were eating sooner than he ever had before. She’d grinned triumphantly at her success – well, despite one small burn that she’d healed herself.

It was a lazy morning, still, something he treasured. Bolin was off doing who knew what – probably in the pro-bending arena, still looking for new team members. He’d been upset at first that Mako and Korra were leaving the Fire Ferrets, but with some talking and some food and time in the park, just goofing around, he’d come around to it.

“Yeah, I still don’t like that you two are  _leaving the Fire Ferrets_ ,” Bolin had said as Korra caught some of the fish in the park, handing them off to Mako to cook through with his firebending. “But, at least I still have my two best bending buds on my personal team.” He grabbed hold of them both around the shoulders and pulled them into a hug – an awkward one, as Mako was still trying to cook a fish, and Korra had been broken out of her waterbending stance, but still.  _Still._ They’d eaten in a much more secluded area of the park, and fortunately had evaded the police. Which, well, Mako had been grateful for, as he’d still been in training.

He shook his head slightly now at the memory, wondering how in the world he’d gone along with it all, but the answer was right in front of his face, swallowing the last of her breakfast. Or, at least,  _part_ of the answer. Bolin had helped Korra convince him, too. He couldn’t forget their teamwork.

Mako reached forward, wiped a couple of crumbs off Korra’s face, and she took hold of his hand again, pressing softly against the pads of his fingers, as if trying to figure their intricacies out. He used his free hand to finish off his cup of tea while she was still a bit distant. But, again, she came back to him, met his eyes, squeezed his hand tightly.

The fire was there, dancing as wild, as determined as ever.

“You’ll see, Mako. You’ll see, when you teach me someday soon. I’ll be the best at lightning generation.”

A bright burst of laughter escaped from between his lips.  _Korra._

“Better than me?” he asked breathlessly.

Korra nodded and gave him that lopsided grin of hers, “Yeah. This student,” – she jabbed her thumb towards her chest – “will surpass her teacher. Someday.” She flipped her hand around, pointing at him. Mako pinched the bridge of his nose, but not out of the usual annoyance. He smiled, eyes shutting for a second – how lucky was he, how fortunate, to know Korra so? He doubted it could ever be quantified, didn’t want it to be.

With a firm shake of their hands, Mako said to Korra’s knowing, competitive wink and smirk, “We’ll see.”

.  .  .  .  .

_**years later, and a changed world. a changed “them.”  
but the core’s still there, yeah?** _

It’s been months since the Republic City spirit portal had been created.

Mako’s been up to his neck in work, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s here doing work for the city that had raised him – roughly, thrown aside, but still his. His city. His home.

Korra had take a bit of time off, still recovering. She’d been back for a while now, though – months, just a week or so spent away with Asami. Maybe less, he couldn’t really remember now, so much had happened, so much sheer  _blur_ now. She’d stopped by one day in the last week, leaving a note in his inbox at work, closed with characters that stated, “Open together  ~~if~~ when I return in a week.”

He’d found his fingertips skirting over the edge of the small envelope, but he had never opened it. Of course, he’d  _wondered_. Why wait a week?

But he waited. She would come when it was right.

.  .  .

She did.

Her smile was a bit more tentative, bit more searching than it used to be. But when he smiled back, opening his arms up for her, he saw her again. That girl he’d fallen for years ago. No longer were they together in that way, but what they had – what they  _still_ had – that was still uniquely theirs, and nothing could ever take that away.

Mako brought her into an embrace, and heard her muffled “Hi, Mako,” against the crook of his neck. He pulled her a bit tighter then, closer to him, as she gripped a little harder onto the back of his detective’s uniform. 

When they pulled apart, their smiles nearly matched – both somewhat more haggard now, with all the work, but still full of life and vigor – they were only in their early twenties. He tore his eyes away from her, opening one of the top drawers of his desk, pulling out the still unopened note. He held it out to her; she tore it halfway open, and gave it back to him.

“Read it, Mr. Hat Trick,” she said, “You’ll see.”

Once it was out in his hands, he scanned her writing quickly. 

Again, yeah, and just… once more. Just make he was really reading it. He swallowed, the memory coming back to him in full color, merely blurred around the edges from time passed. He’d never forgotten, just pushed it so far back for all these years, because it had always been her choice to go forward with it, not his. 

She was here now, a determination within her eyes again. They were older, a few years more mature, broken by the years in differing ways; he saw something different in her eyes now, and he knew she (and everyone) could see what the lightning had done to his arm. But their cores – nothing could ever wipe away that. Nothing at all. What truly made them Korra and Mako.

He reached a hand out and ruffled her shorter hair up, delighting in her laughter. She furrowed her brow and did the same to him, though as always, she had to lean up on her feet to reach him.

“So,” he ventured when they separated themselves, “We’re gonna see… now?”

Korra crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised her eyebrows as a sly smile appeared on her face, “Yeah, you’ll see, Mako. Now, let’s go!”

She tugged on his arm, and he knew the Chief wouldn’t mind.

Not for Korra.

.  .  .

They faced each other on the top of a mountainside some distance from Republic City; Asami had already had some pathways up here for Future Industries’ experiments that “needed open air and privacy,” she’d said. Neither of them had asked questions, and Mako didn’t even  _want_ to know. If the products were meant to be, he’d see them when they officially came out later.

The city’s skyline was still in the distance, but it nearly looked like a city made for fireants at this point. Asami had left them almost a full hour ago, and now they were just going over the stance and movements again after a few rough starts. He’d generated his own lightning twice, going slower than usual, pausing to give pointers and guidance to Korra. 

She followed his fluid movements with her own body, listening intently as he reminded her again of the importance of separating the yin and yang within herself, the circular motions, every single word. She grit her teeth and nodded as he stopped to come around to her backside, helping her loosen up.

“You can do this, Korra,” he said. “Told me I’d see, right?”

Korra breathed in and out, starting again as he moved back in front of her, matching her movements.

It was only them and the open air. Nothing else.

She felt it inside of her, the separation of yin and yang, those positive and negative energies, as she moved like Mako had shown her, told her, described to her. When the energies collided back into each other, she remembered his words:

_“Guide it, don’t control.”_

In the past, she would have done anything to be in control. 

Now, she breathed and released the lightning from her fingertips, from both arms, guiding it, not controlling, and Mako was smiling so broadly, so proudly.

Hers didn’t last too long, but it didn’t need to. Not right away. She’d done so much more in an hour than anyone else he’d ever seen.

“You did it!” Mako exclaimed as Korra closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him. Just like years before, he spun her around once and then they settled back onto firm ground. 

Korra looked up at him and settled a hand on her hip. With a grin, she said, “Told you you’d see.”

He had.

Years later, they’d made it here, and he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything else.


End file.
